


Dutch-African Proposals

by AsheeChaos



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-26 00:42:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13224609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsheeChaos/pseuds/AsheeChaos





	1. Chapter 1

Njall had slung an arm around me and pulled my head under my arm, squeezing.

I coughed due to lack of oxygen, but laughed immediately after. So he was happy.

It was an interesting change.

Big boy had given up on romance already, but now?

To think the government would actually do something good for once…

I took a deep breath of oceanbreeze and went on lookout for the ships, climbing on the next roof.

They weren’t expected for the next hours, but… well, seafaring was not an exact science anyway and Njall was not going to be able to work today anyway.

He was looking forward to it. A lot.

And I… well… I let a leg dangle from the roof and wondered how they actually convinced me to join the program: ‘Marry a Dutch Lady’.

Because we didn’t have enough women. Apparently.

Admittedly, the lifestyles of the natives were vastly different. We couldn’t get along that easily… but… this seemed a little… well… it might solve the orphan problem and our lack-of-women problems.

It was still ridiculous.

But here I was. Waiting for my wife.

An orphan wife. Young. From an orphanage.

So… at least we will at least be on the same level: Gone through the 'proper’ government treatment. And the proper 'care’.

… so she would be just as sarcastic, distrusting and grumpy as anyone else.

Or fearful. Which would be less fortunate, but at least that might stop when our wives arrived. At least that I promised myself. Treating my wife well. We might become good friends, after all.

That Njall would treat her well is a given… and Samil would be forced to, so there’s that.

And… now it was just time… to… draw a number. Apparently.

Because that was what was written on the townshall.

I mean… there could be more subtle ways, but… at least we were informed.

That… made me realise we would get a random wife assigned. By lot.

Heh. At least we would all get home on time.

There was no ship in sight, so I climbed down again. And told the papa bear where to get his ’  
wife-voucher’.

It would be an interesting day.

Or week, knowing the sea…

Ah well.


	2. Chapter 2

… one day I would call Samil out on his inability to share with the class.

One day, he’ll have to listen to every single stupid thing I had to endure because he just did things.

In this case? Make me argue with the bloody bureaucrat who insisted we already got our lot. And threatening with violence. We were supposed to GO, we don’t get two wives.

He sounded a little hysterical.

Apparently, the people were going the tiniest bit nuts around us.

Blame was the furthest from my mind, though. Half the town got married. It was a little nerve-wrecking. There was a bit of violence already, really.

Standing behind a confused Njall really was the best course of action.

Seeing the big guy with a sad gleam in his eyes was somehow worse, though, so I knocked on his back and told him: “Samil tried to spare us the wait, he’s got our tickets!”

He tilted his head, but then ‘mmmh’-ed and nodded, parting the crowd with sheer determination, making a way for both of us to the side entrance of the townhall.

With lifting my hat to the lovely security guard – and by wishing him a nice day -, we got in. One flight of stairs later, we shooed another guard and opened the door to the mayor’s office.

The mayor was not there, but a voice still greeted us: “Njall, Mazin! Welcome! So you are early, after all!”

I looked at him. Dressed in a proper, formal fashion, hair tamed and bound by a bloody bow of all things. Meticulously shaved as well.

Well, it is his wedding day. But did you really need to over-dazzle a woman that just got through a few thousand miles on ship?

I raised a brow.

And he came close enough to pat both our backs: “I took the freedom to already get your lots as well, so we might be able to have our ceremonies together!”

Which was… all well and good until he could have relayed any kind of message.

But… that’s just the thing he does, right?

Njall merely held out his hand, without comment.

“Here I am, trying to actually make a proper memory together, and that is my thanks,” he shook his head, but handed us the slips.

I sat down on not-his desk: “You didn’t even make a note to come here…”

“And yet, here you are, of course you would figure it out,” he smiled.

I rolled my eyes. One day I would explain. Today? Today was time for peace and smirking at Njall practically glowing with his ticket in hand.

To be particularly scenic and present, Samil stepped to the window and waved a bit. Because why not, right?

“You got a message they actually arrive today?,” I hadn’t seen the letter yet.

He pulled a tiny piece of paper out of his pocket. Arrived by bird, then: “In only an hour, actually,” he nodded and checked his perfectly fitted vest.

Njall’s eyes lit up even more, standing there, looking back and forth between the two of us. Then he bear-hugged and fled to the outside world again.

“… better follow the bear,” I nodded.

And after the crinkles were removed, we stepped after him, to stand at the shore like everyone else… and in his case, shake a lot of hands.

Of course I would as well, but it would be a lot more about actually wanting to know how Mary’s kids were doing instead of representational glory. But to each their own. Njall simply stared in the direction the ship would be coming from. Unmoving.

It was a sight to behold.

As was the little arrangement of priests settling in their instant-marriage-sports. Together with their scribes.

It was somewhat lacking in romance. So I at least got her one of those tiny combs that barely had any function… but at least looked pretty and shiny when simply stuck in it. It was not the most thoughtful gift, but most women liked to feel pretty. And after the long journey, lack of sleep and less than decent hygienic conditions… maybe that might be a nice thing?

It was not easy to figure a present for someone you did not know.

Njall brought a knife.

Which. Well. I certainly appreciate a good knife. And… he does mean it for self defense, so… ah… maybe she got the right first impression… like that.

I certainly do know a few women that appreciate a good knife.

As a wedding gift? Not so many. But they exist, so… well… he… a present shows more about the person that gives the gift than the one receiving, right? He certainly is honest.

Samil’s fancy cape was just…

…

Well, probably was effective in convincing her he is rich. Which is also pretty damn honest.

So we all tried.

Whatever.

We got in line. All properly lined up.

Number twenty-five to twenty-seven.

It wouldn’t even be long.

Ship in sight and everything.

 

And then it was actually time, the cheering was… loud. And actually cheerful.

Except for the people that had to unload the actual cargo, but well, that’s life.

It appeared we actually married in groups of three.

So we would actually have… a ceremony together.

I was almost impressed.

After the hour of patting Njall’s back and telling him it would be fine (not that anyone else saw it, but I knew that fists meant nervosity, so there was that…), now I finally got… a few nerves as well.

I pulled my clothes to properly fit – and at least obscured the pockets from view - and took the hat off, smoothing my – thankfully cooperative- hair into shape.

And then… after a few minutes of wait… the curtain was lifted and the women ushered out.

In front of me… I found a very young woman. With big eyes. Looking around curiously.

And smiling a little more widely than it was strictly proper – or beautiful - for a lady.

Her eyes went everywhere.

Some strands had escaped her long – long – braid. And I took the moment to apply the tiny comb, capturing the strand and draping them up properly, being held by the tool itself.

That drew her attention. But she didn’t twitch back, merely looked what I was doing.

“Oh, thank you!,” another bright, clear-eyes, open-hearted smile.

She prodded a little and deemed it worthy. Then held up the 25 in her hands. I held up my own little paper, smiling just as well, if a little bewildered.

“You’re welcome. Ah. The name is Mazin”

She giggled a bit: “Mine is Matia! We’ll get to know each other very well!”

Well… where she was right… she was right.

…

huh.


	3. Chapter 3

I couldn’t help but look at her.   
She was everything I didn’t expect her to be.   
Young. Wide eyed. Open. Optimistic. Talkative. In a way, she was unscarred.   
It made my skin crawl to see the real thing. A real, optimistic and honest and open being.   
It hadn’t been more than half an hour since the ordained man had, in a terribly ceremonial voice, said: “I hereby pronounce you man and wife”  
She had honestly been happy. And smiled at the ring around her finger. And grabbed my arm, like we didn’t just meet five minutes before, sidling up against me. 

How it is appropriate for a wife, but-  
We didn’t know each other. Assuming the best in another person is all good and well in theory. But it wasn’t a reality.   
As I could see very well from Njall and his less than pleased, possibly fighty wife… and Samil and his woman. They were… *smiling* at one another. It was a little unsettling.   
… I had expected to be the one that would be easy smiles and inviting gestures and all careful with a somewhat uneasy, frightened woman.  
That was not the case.   
Wrapping my head around this was terribly difficult. Continued to be so.   
She had no reservations whatsoever.  
Since the very moment we said ‘I do’, she clung to my arm.   
“Show me around!,” she said.   
And so I did, my own face smoothing into a smile and I switched on my storyteller mode. Gestures wide, eyes everywhere, hushed tones, conspiratory tones, laughter… all the things yo want to have a good story.   
The problem was: She was not apprehensive. She accepted everything. How many people, what wares there are, which rules applied, how the laws dictate things, where to stay away from, when to go to bed, the names of places, of areas…  
Also that the port was full of ships and four dozen came in and set out every day, asked how many sailors there were, was impressed by the three digit number, asked which hotels they stayed in.   
When we walked past the dingy taverns with the rooms designated for the few people that couldn’t - or didn’t want to - sleep on a ship while in the harbour, she simply nodded with a light frown, saying she understood. It was only two months, but she felt seasick by standing properly on the flat ground, so sleeping on a real bed would be heaven.  
I chuckled at that: “Well, if you feel unsure on your feet…”   
I eyed her, she was small, compact, likely not too heavy. She looked back at me, with questioning eyes.   
Falling into a crouch, I said: “I’ll make a good land-ship”  
… and she actually giggled. An actual, honest giggle.  
Two arms were thrown around my neck: “Alright, mighty husband-steed! Onwards!”  
And she let me grab her thighs properly.   
As predicted, she was light. Not worth mentioning. I would be able to carry her quite a while. Especially with her actually holding onto me properly.   
She rested her chin on my head, giggling again. I felt the vibration on my back.   
Huh. She really was close.   
And excited.   
Definitely not calm at all. I could feel her heartbeat in the aorta of her leg. And even felt her heart hammer in her chest.   
Didn’t eat enough. that was for certain.   
Possibly a little frightened, despite the good mood.   
“What’s this!,” she exclaimed, pointing, as I saw when I looked up, checking.  
“That would be the town hall. I actually work there, most of the time. Only building with a reliable clock,” it was the only building that actually had proper stonework, too. Admittedly, wood was better suited for the constantly changing weather. Easier to replace. And easier to maintain. Swam, too. Still, possibly a strange sight for a city girl.  
“Noooo, the statue!,” I blinked. And looked. Right. In front of it was a statue. One tended to overlook the thing.  
“… that’s an asshole,” I said, with the conviction you use for a statement of facts.  
“He’s a majestic asshole…?,” she sounded like she was pouting.   
“Well, he had to be, still enslaved the people around here. It is an asshole move,” I shrugged, securing my hold on her.  
“Mmmmhkay,” she nodded, “I guess the decendents still sit around…”  
“So they do,” I nodded. Smart girl.  
“What else can you show me?”  
“Ah, there are about two dozen taverns to see… the market… the craftsmen… and of course there are the stables. With horses. To bring us home, you know?”  
“Mh?,” this sounded a little puzzled.  
“Well, aren’t you tired?,” that was the first time she actually tensed, for a second. Only a second, then she loosened up again.  
“I haven’t seen the whole town yet!,” she swung her legs.   
And I chuckled again: “You will have a lot of opportunity to, believe me. But I think today has been… a lot”  
At that, she slouched on me: “Alriiiiight,” it did make her a lot heavier.   
And I laughed. This was going to be… very, very strange.   
On the way to the stables, I still explained every stone I could think of.


	4. Chapter 4

She seemed rather content, leaning on my back, my head, pointing at things.   
I could hear her smiling, didn’t even need to see it.   
The unfiltered curiosity slowly made me realise what was so different about her: She wasn’t… tired.   
Sure she was actually, physically tired, I noticed that in miniscule muscle spasms and the way her pointed finger stayed up for a shorter time in the beginning. I was sure she hadn’t even noticed herself, full of adrenaline and new impressions, but still: This was not his own kind of tired.   
It was… kind of refreshing.

“So, you can ride?,” I asked, when we were close to the stables.   
“Seems to work just fine on you…?,” she said, hugging me from behind, body all spread against me.  
… for a moment, my brain refused to cooperate properly.   
She said it too innocently. She probably actually, honestly meant on my back.  
And that was another can of weird right there. Another thing that was… just off.   
“So… riding my back is just fine, but horses are not exactly your preferred way of getting around?   
”… ah… I… have you as a good first example, right?,“ her hands dug a little bit into his shirt.   
"Matia. Please. I’m not going to leave you. We’re just going to take a bigger horse,” I shook my head, “How do you even get that idea?!”  
“I didn’t say anything like that,” now I could hear the frown in her voice.   
“Yes, but,” I overanalyze. And even if I was right, she probably wasn’t aware of that either, “… the horses aren’t that far anymore,” I shrugged.  
“So we’ll take a really big one?,” and the wonder in her voice was back and I still did not know what to do about that.  
“Mh, if you want, we’ll take the biggest one they have,” and they had some big ones.  
It resulted in more leg-swinging. The grip I had on her got less supported once again.   
Ah well.  
We reached the stables anyway. And she… dismounted. In a way I wasn’t used to with women, usually.   
I would need to get used to a lot of different thoughts. Now. Also that the dismounting really is not going to be like that with *other* women anymore. Just this one.   
…  
If at all.  
Such a strange thought.   
Meanwhile, she walked over to the stable hand and said “Hallo!”  
Which, alright, he was white and all, but…   
Well. “Heeey, Eric, we need your biggest, baddest horse in the stable”  
After eyeing my… well… wife. Yes, my wife, another second, he sighed and looked at me: “You know old Grumpy, go get him then, for your… newest… adventure?”  
Here he was, judging my poor, innocent soul: “Hey, my wife is allowed a big bad horse if she wants one, and I’ll try to make it less of an adventure, thank you very much, I’m the travel was adventure enough for the time being”  
“You… you got into the program. You,” he stared.   
“Every man has his time,” I shrugged.  
“How the fuck did you figure it’s yours?,” he honestly had stopped mugging the stables, there.  
“It was time to settle down and all,” I shrugged.   
“I know some people that will be very disappointed, Ziny,” he still frowned, “She’s your wife?!”  
“Yes, she is. And disappointment is part of life. I’ll be a loyal husband,” I tilted my head. It was the easiest way to get the information out, really"  
“You married?!,” he was still not over it apparently.  
“That… is usually a thing you do before becoming a husband,” I nodded again.  
“Jesus. GIRL! You found the horse?!,” he yelled deeper into the stables.  
“The name’s Matia”  
“Well then… MISSUS RUTHVEN! You found the horse?!,” because he was polite.   
I was not.  
Anyway.   
I heard footsteps and big eyes appeared at the other end of the stables.   
“It’s huuuuuuuge,” she loudly whispered through the hall. Excitement written over her face.  
“I guess she did. Thank you kindly, Eric, you’ll get him back tomorrow”  
He muttered something about marriage under his breath while I walked down the hall to meet up with my - small, energetic - wife.   
She actually grabbed my sleeve and dragged me further down to big Grumpy’s stall.   
He is a really pretty, black Friesian.  
With an awful, awful temper.  
Not that I will let her experience it, firsthand.   
Grumpy knows me and listens. Properly.   
Matia would just need to be a tiny bit less excited while we got closer to the giant horse.   
“You need to be really calm… or he will get spooked,” I walked into the stall, grabbing for the mane, “… just stand over there for a moment”  
She did as she was told and stared at me - and the giant next to me - with wide open eyes.   
I wouldn’t saddle him now, he liked that better. It was only a short-ish ride anyway.   
Just the reins would be enough.   
After a bit of preparation-time, she approached fearlessly when I called. And got up without a problem, when I helped her. That she clung to Grumpy’s neck was… acceptable.   
“Now stick real close, I’ll get up, too”  
“Mmmmmhmh,” I couldn’t even evaluate the tone.   
Fact was, we were both on the horse. And it wasn’t spooked yet.   
“Think you can relax?,” I petted her back.  
“… iiin a moment,” she says. Still cheerfully, but… maybe it WAS a bit high.


	5. Chapter 5

She recovered quickly, I gave her that.  
Not completely, mind you, but she got over the height difference and stopped strangling our ride. (Not that it did much)  
She leaned back. And hit my chest, startling and smiling nervously up to me.  
So she actually did have some nerves. Possibly strung by the height, but… nerves. Made her more of a human.   
That she leaned against me and sighed - in relief - was a different story.   
It did not feel normal. People were generally no relieved to lean against me.   
They are at ease, maybe, and somewhat trusting. Kind of secure. But never relieved, since I was - and still am - too honest for most people.   
“You… take this remarkably well,” I patted her head, while I held the reins with my other hand, “Most people are a little more nervous when they get to sit on a being ten times their size and weight”  
“I can be brave,” she huffed, almost proud, just a little imbalanced, still trying to adjust to the wide horseback.  
“… it’s also pretty stupid,” which was also perfectly honest.  
“Ey! You told me to!,” she was affronted, rightfully so.   
“Very true. And I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. But you only have my word for it, and how can you trust that, mh?,” I was a stranger. We barely even met.  
“You’re my husband I’ll always trust you,” she said with conviction, “And you’ll trust me, too. Otherwise you wouldn’t have said ‘I do’ ”  
That was when I realised what she said was true.   
Just that no one usually thought that about me. I did not… instill trust in people.  
And so I sighed: “You… are very trusting, aren’t you?”  
There was a little pause, where she still wriggled around, then: “I don’t trust the horse very much”  
“I have it under control, though,” so if she trusted me, she had to-  
“It’s ten times your size, too,” with which she had a bit of a point.   
So I chuckled and snapped the reins.   
Old Grumpy was spurred into motion and Matia’s hands gripped my knees.   
Nerves.   
Heh.   
I would see how they could be conjured up. You see how people truly are when they are under duress.  
Which wasn’t quite fair, but… I would try to be at least careful about it.  
Certainly seems like the horse would not work, since her grip loosened after about ten minutes and she awkwardly tried to follow the horses movements. The right idea, really. Just that - of course - it didn’t work. It was awkward and her thighs will be slightly roughened up, not pleasant in the slightest.

But the clinging and trying to balance and synchronizing with the horse easily took her attention. No talking on the ride home. No more words.   
Surely, her body was slightly distracting, all trusting and relaxed up against me, but I could clear my head.  
I had a wife. A wife that apparently was not desperate in the slightest.   
One that tried her best. And was optimistic.   
Still a strange, weird thought.   
It didn’t get less strange when we reached my humble abode. More or less humble.  
Maybe less.   
It certainly had stables, too. And that’s where I steered old Grumpy - very well behaved, today - and got down.   
When I offered my hand to hep her down from the animal, she took it and swung her legs over the body… and then jumped. A lot like one would jump from a counter.   
A little undignified, but what can you do.   
She threw her hands in the air like after some exercise.  
I chuckled and handed her-  
“… a brush?,” she blinked at it.  
“Yes, we need to rub him down and brush his fur,” I myself held the towel and started rubbing, “Just follow me with the brush, rubbing in circles…”

She did as she was told, following my own circles. 

Old Grumpy got more nervous. 

When he actually stomped the floor and snorted, throwing his head, Matia jumped back with a squeak. She landed in my arms.

I wrapped her in the horse-blanket still in my hands: “Hey, hey… no getting spooked and spooking the horse,” I chuckled.


End file.
